Scarf
by Toasty
Summary: "She stiffened her shoulders. What reason did she have to be jealous of Draco Malfoy anyway? Who wanted a store-bought scarf? What love did that hold? Everybody in Diagon Alley probably had a scarf just like his; hers on the other hand was one of a ki


This fluffy little ficlet was inspired by a picture I found.  (email me and I'll send you the link- it's a long one.)

Anything you recognize, I don't own.  Be kind and review and I'll work a little more on The Hogwarts Herald.  Thanks a million to letlyf who put up with me while I should have been working on a different fic.

_Scarf_

            Ginny rushed through the courtyard of Hogwarts laughing.  Not only was she halfway through her last year of schooling, but a heavy snowfall the night before had coated the grounds with a thick layer of clean fluff, perfect for wadding into balls and launching at friends.  The redhead smiled and, in the middle of the empty quad, began to spin in the fresh air.  Her cheeks flushed due to the nipping wind and her still-damp hair began to freeze in small clumps hanging down her back.  Laughing to herself, she fell unceremoniously onto a cold stone bench, free from snow due to an overhanging.

            "You're going to kill yourself doing that."

            Ginny looked up to see who had disturbed her peaceful solitude.  Her eyes showed obvious shock when the man pulled himself from a bench across the square.  "What are you doing back here?"

            "I make special trips back to this prison just to torture you, Weasley."  He rolled his eyes.  "I have to talk to the headmaster, not that it's any of your business."

            Ginny nodded slowly.  "Ah," she sighed.  "I see."  Rubbing her arms to keep the chill from seeping through her thin robes, she stood.  "Goodbye then."

            Draco glanced up and down the destitute teenager.  Her thin robes hung off her body, improperly shrunken after having been worn by too many older siblings.  The scarf wrapped around her neck appeared to be a patchwork of faded red and gold, but was obviously too thin to protect her from the biting cold.  On the spur of the moment, he called after her to wait.

            Ginny turned around, somewhat peeved by being interrupted.  "What is it, Malfoy?"  He motioned her over to him.  Grudgingly, she headed towards him.

            "Aren't you cold?" he asked her.

            The redhead glared at him.  "No.  Besides, what would you care anyway?"

            He tried to focus his icy eyes on hers.  The cold stare he expected to receive was far from the dejected one he caught.  Ginny's brown eyes focused adamantly on a dull stonewall to Draco's left.  "Aren't you cold?" he asked again.

            She sighed.  Her shoulders emitted an unenthusiastic shrug.  "Not on the outside at least."  As her mouth closed her eyes went wide.  Ginny's shocked expression turned to Draco's smug one.  "I didn't just say that, did I?"

            He nodded and she slammed her hand into her forehead.  The blonde shrugged.  "It doesn't matter.  I kind of know how it is."

            Ginny turned back to face him, sizing him up.  His thick black cloak made him appear much larger than she knew he was.  His fine hair had been whipped about by the harsh winds and laid messily about his face.  She squinted up at him for a moment.  "Wait," she murmured, "Didn't you use to do something else with your hair?"

            Draco let out a chuckle.  "Observant, Weasley, very observant."  Ginny's response was a simple glare in the elder's direction.

            The redhead refused to sigh, but she wanted to.  She glanced at his scarf, and tried not to be jealous, but she was.  Her ungloved fingers fiddled with an end of her own scarf as she once again turned to walk away from the blonde man.

            She stiffened her shoulders.  What reason did she have to be jealous of Draco Malfoy anyway?  Who wanted a store-bought scarf?  What love did that hold?  Everybody in Diagon Alley probably had a scarf just like his; hers on the other hand was one of a kind.  It meant something to her.  It was a gift from her mother.  It showed the love that nothing Draco Malfoy owned had.  It warmed her heart, if not her neck.

            Ginny growled to herself.  Who was she kidding anyway?  Roughly, she unwrapped her scarf from her neck.  Uselessly, she threw it off the path she was following.  Sighing, she ran her hand through her hair.  What use was love from a family so far away?  What was love when the best it could do was provide her with hand-me-downs?

            Something warm and soft wrapped around Ginny's neck.  Something strong and pale turned Ginny around by her waist.  "Ginny," his voice was warm against her ear.  "If you're cold, it's okay."

            She shook her head.  "No," she stuttered, "No, I'm fine."

            Draco smirked.  "Would you like to keep my scarf?"

            Ginny blushed red, barely noticeable beneath her already wind-bitten cheeks.  She could smell expensive cologne on the scarf.  Her brothers had always bought overpowering smells that left her sick to her stomach.  The thick fabric felt soft against the back of her neck.  Her mother had always bought rough wool that cost the least.

            She nodded.  Yes, she'd like to keep his scarf.  "But… I don't want you to go cold."

            Draco stole a quick kiss from the stunned girl.  "That should keep me warm for a while."  He turned back towards the castle and left her standing speechless.

            "Malfoy!" Ginny shouted, running down the halls of Hogwarts, foolishly chasing a stuck-up blonde man.  He slowly turned when he heard her shouts.

            She caught up to him and took a deep breath.  "Malfoy," she sighed.  "I don't want you to ever be cold."  Ginny blushed.  "Ever."


End file.
